Page 78 of Down & Dirty: Rage

“Know a place.”

Of course he did.

He jerked his chin up. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll follow you.”

“Nope.”

“Ash.”

“Ain’t doin’ this fuckin’ dance again, woman. Don’t make me physically put you on this fuckin’ sled.”

She had no doubt he’d do it, too. With a loud, drawn-out sigh, she planted a hand on his shoulder and climbed on behind him.

“Hang on tight,” he ordered, and started his Harley.

Like she needed that warning. Plus, it was the perfect excuse to get up close and personal with him.

She slid forward until she was sandwiched against him and her crotch was pinned against his ass. Pressing her face against his cut, she hid her smile and tightly wrapped her arms around his waist, spreading her fingers along his gut.

With a twist to the throttle, they shot off through the dark alley and out of Shadow Valley.

Chapter Fifteen

With a groan,Lyric sat back and pushed away her empty plate. She was bursting at the seams. Ash had taken her to a diner that served breakfast twenty-four seven, and since that was her favorite meal of the day, that was what she got; an order of strawberry stuffed French toast drowning in maple syrup, topped with whipped cream, and a side of bacon.

She had skipped breakfast that morning to go to Ash’s apartment, only scarfed down a protein bar at lunch, and never had time to eat dinner.

So yes, her stomach had been growling like a pissed-off biker.

Only, the biker sitting across from her was no longer growling. He wore a satisfied expression the whole time he made sure she ate every bite on her plate.

How he ate a triple cheeseburger without wearing it every time he took a bite, she had no clue. Magic, she guessed. And his big mouth.

After she covered a yawn with her hand, she checked the time to see it was creeping up on midnight.

Her mother had texted her earlier, worried that she wasn’t home yet, and Lyric assured her she was fine and lied when she stated she was hanging out with some of the sisterhood. No doubt her father put Jazz up to contacting her.

When she showed the text to Ash, his expression turned to granite. “You’re twenty-fuckin-four years old, not fourteen.”

“I’m not sure why the OGs watch us women like hawks when they never worry about any of you.”

“Shouldn’t need to explain that.”

“Hang on. You agree with it?”

Her answer came in the form of silence.

She rolled her eyes. “We’re perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves.”

He grunted.

“Anyway, speaking of hawks, we need to get you back on the schedule.” She pulled out her phone and showed him the finished drawing of his next piece.

When he grabbed her phone, his long, warm fingers brushed against hers.

The same fingers that had been inside her that very morning.